Those Little Moments
by midichlorian
Summary: A short fic set at Bill & Fleur's wedding. Ron, Hermione and the inevitable. First fan fic!T just in case but I think it's OK. Added an extra chapter due to a nibbling plot bunny which caused me more trouble than my real bunny! :
1. Those Little Moments

**a/n: You know how it is, this is JKR's and she thought of it first! I'm just a visitor in this world J**

**Those Little Moments**

A Missing Moment

He was content. For a brief moment he let all the hurt and sorrow fade and allowed himself this feeling of peace. The feeling that this was just - well - right. He took in the scent of her, this girl that was in his arms, his fingers stroking her coffee coloured curls. She smelled faintly of grapefruit, probably from breakfast, and of old books, and something else, something that could only be identified as - Hermione.

"This is what home feels like", Hermione thought. She was lost in the moment too. She was in the arms of the person she loved most, her best friend in the world, and he was stroking her hair and his cheek was resting on the top of her head and nothing else mattered for that brief moment in time.

Nothing mattered until a tear fell from Ron's chin and landed with a soft splash on the back of her hand. A second tear, one of her own followed and landed in the same spot, ending the momentary calm and bringing the pair back to reality. Ron's thumb brushed away a fresh tear from Hermione's eye, then swatted his own away roughly with the back of his hand. They were sitting under a tree by the lake, watching numbly as people left Dumbledore's funeral, watching Harry speaking with Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic. Harry didn't look too pleased with the conversation he was having.

"Things are never going to be the same again, are they?" Ron sighed glumly, "I mean, it's really here. It's time to end the war."

Hermione reluctantly shifted her head from its comfortable position on Ron's shoulder to look him in the eye. A lone tear slipped unbidden from her eye as she spoke. "Yes, it's time Ron. And I'm really scared. I think - I think Harry is ready to go right now, head straight out and find the Horcruxes without any kind of preparation. I'm scared if he does that then he has no ch-"

" I agree with you 'Mione," Ron interrupted her, "I think this time we can't just rush into this. Harry hasn't got Dumbledore to protect him anymore if he goes off without thinking like usual. We need to think strategy, gather the Order. We need help."

"We need to gather our senses. It's all a lot to take in," Hermione sighed and wiped away another tear. "We need to slow Harry down. I know that Dumbledore made him promise to go back to those dreadful Dursleys one last time for the summer. I think we should go with him, make sure he doesn't fight this war alone."

Ron nodded. "You're right. We'll go to his aunt and uncle's. But we need to go to the Burrow for the wedding first."

Hermione gasped, "Gosh, I'd forgotten! Of course! I think it will be good for all of us - something happy to focus on before it all gets horrible," she smiled slightly.

"So we're agreed. We are going with Harry no matter what?" Ron ran his hands through his fire red hair nervously.

"I think we are," Hermione said grimly. She briefly touched Ron's hand, "I think we were always meant to."

"Bloody hell," Ron whistled through his teeth, taking in this grim realisation.

"He's coming back now. Looks like the conversation with the Minister hasn't gone well," Hermione watched Rufus Scrimgeour limp away as Harry walked towards them.

At the Burrow

Wedding preparations were in full swing at the Burrow. The quaint, welcoming house was usually lively, but with just two days to the imminent celebration, the activity inside was reminiscent of a small whirlwind! Molly Weasley was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches to the wedding cake, Ginny was helping with the rest of the food, along with Dobby, who had volunteered himself. Charlie Weasley had arrived that morning and was helping to tidy the garden. Bill Weasley was still recovering from his ferocious attack by Fenrir Greyback, and was rather enjoying all the attention that was being lavished on him. Bill was with the tailor, having the finishing touches put on his wedding robes. Fred and George were in the garden, trying out formulas for some spectacular fireworks for the big day. Arthur Weasley was at Hogwarts with the Order, discussing the events that had so recently taken place. Fleur was in Hogsmeade with her sister Gabrielle shopping for last minute little touches for the decorations.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were degnoming the garden. The energetic task was helping the trio to take out their frustration and grief for the loss of Dumbledore and the war they were about to wage. They'd been throwing the gnomes out of the garden very enthusiastically.

"Phew, I'm exhausted!" Hermione exclaimed, "do you two want some pumpkin juice?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks Hermione," Harry smiled at her. Ron, furious that Percy had refused to come to the wedding, was concentrating deeply on chasing the gnomes and didn't hear. Sensing that someone was staring at him, he stopped and wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. His ocean blue eyes searched for the person staring at him and found chocolate brown ones holding his gaze. They stayed that way for what seemed like a long time before Hermione spoke again.

"Er, Ron? I was fetching pumpkin juice. Do you want some?" she flushed slightly at the intensity of his stare.

"Good idea," he nodded, "any chance of something to eat as well? I'm starving!"

Hermione smiled fondly, "I'll see what I can do but honestly Ron, if I go into that kitchen for food I might never make it back out!" She looked over into the kitchen window, where Molly was yelling at Ginny for spilling something. Ron laughed as Hermione headed towards the house. He watched her go, taking in the sight of his friend in her pale yellow summer trousers and a white blouse, her hair tied loosely in a bun. His eyes fixed on a few loose curls brushing against her neck and momentarily found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss that neck.

That thought took hold and spread its wings like a post owl delivering the mail. He thought about following her and wrapping his long arms around her waist and putting his head on her shoulder and taking in that scent of grapefruit and old parchment and leaving feather light kisses on her neck and her cheek and her earlobe. He thought about her wrapping her arms around his neck, having to stand on tiptoe to do it, and he thought about how good it would be to kiss her lips, which he suspected would be even softer than the cheek that had rested on his shoulder as she grieved for Dumbledore.

". . . . . . . . .with the gnomes. I reckon we should probably cut the grass next," Ron came out of his reverie to find Harry speaking to him. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Sorry Harry mate. What did you say?"

Harry smiled and looked at his friend, who had started to turn pink at the tips of his ears. He looked to the direction that Hermione had gone. Harry took a deep breath and spoke:

"You should tell her, you know."

"Tell who what?" Ron asked. He was still a little lost in his thoughts. He'd been thinking that way for some time now. About halfway through the whole mess that was his snog-fest with Lavender Brown, realisation had hit him. He had replayed the argument from the Yule Ball over and over and one day, while coming up for air from snogging Lavender, he'd realised why he was so mad at Viktor Krum, and why Hermione had spat, "next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" He realised that he liked Hermione. A lot. Almost three years had passed since that revelation and he was now utterly in love with her. But she was one of his best friends, and he'd resigned himself to that, because he'd rather not say anything for fear of losing her friendship.

Harry cleared his throat and waited until Ron was paying attention before replying. "You should tell Hermione how you feel."

The blush at the tips of Ron's ears now covered the rest of his face and he stared at Harry, aghast, "What are you on about? Tell her what?"

"Ron, it's been obvious to most people except you for some time that you fancy Hermione," Harry laughed at the shock on Ron's face, "You should tell her before we go to fight Voldemort. It might be the only chance you get, mate."

Ron shuddered at that grim realisation and whistled. "Bloody hell," he sighed, "but I can't tell her. She doesn't like me that way."

"Are you joking? Ron mate, Hermione's mad about you. It's as obvious as the way you feel about her!" Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder and then whispered conspiratorially, "Besides, I know for definite 'cos Ginny told me."

Ron was wide eyed at this revelation, and was about to reply when he saw Hermione return with a huge tray of sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice. Ron's stomach growled at the sight of the sandwiches, and the conversation was left alone and forgotten for the moment whilst the trio, and Fred and George, spying food, left their chores and ate heartily whilst discussing the impending wedding, and the search for the Horcruxes that was to follow all too soon.

The Wedding

The wedding soon came around, and the Weasleys were assembled in the Burrow's garden, along with all the guests: Madame Maxime, Hagrid, various Hogwarts students, most of the Order of the Phoenix; some were left to keep watch for any activity on Voldemort's part (it had been suspiciously quiet since the death of Professor Dumbledore, but there had been many casualties on both sides that night, perhaps it was just that they were recovering), Madame Pomfrey had been invited, after all she had done for Bill, and Professor Sprout had arranged all the beautiful flowers, which were mostly shades of blue, lilac, and cream, to match the Beauxbatons colours which Fleur had decided upon due to the wedding relocating to The Burrow rather than in France. Under current circumstances it was decided that it was better to have the Order stay in England. Bill Weasley was stood under an archway entwined with delphiniums, anemones, lisianthus, blue iris and beautiful white orchids and roses, waiting for his bride, with Charlie, his best man, waiting at his side, The other Weasley boys were sitting at the front, looking very smart in their new dress robes (no lace in sight), with their mother, who was already sniffling into a large white handkerchief. Professor McGonagall was at the front of the archway, as acting headmistress of Hogwarts, Bill and Fleur had asked her to conduct the wedding. All were waiting nervously for the bride to appear.

The music started. All heads turned towards the Burrow, and there was a collective gasp as the beautiful part Veela bride, in her white dress with blue ribbons lacing up her corset, and white and blue bouquet, and the beautiful sparkling tiara on her flowing golden hair, walking up the aisle with Arthur Weasley, who was giving her away. Well, almost all heads turned to the bride. Harry and Ron's eyes were firmly fixed on two of the bridesmaids. Ginny and Hermione, along with Fleur's sister Gabrielle were following the bride dressed in long blue silk dresses, their hair tied back in an elegant French chignon, each with a delicate crown of Forget-Me-Nots placed on their heads.

Hermione sensed that not all eyes were on the bride and peered sideways to find Ron staring at her! Not Fleur, but Hermione! She flushed slightly at the realisation, and the butterflies in her stomach seemed to wake up. She smiled at Ron and he returned it, his deep blue eyes finding her calming brown ones. It gave Hermione fresh confidence in thinking that he did like her after all. OK, so Ginny had said as much already, but you wouldn't think so the way he acted around her most of the time. He was jealous of Viktor Krum for certain, but that didn't necessarily mean he liked her _that_ way, did it?

"But still, Hermione, you have to tell him how you feel. You might not get another chance," she heard Ginny's words from that very morning echo in her head and silently agreed with them. She'd tell him after the wedding and that was final! After all, she was a Gryffindor! She certainly shouldn't be afraid of telling her best friend that she loved him!

Later that day . . . . .

The reception was in full swing. The garden was beautifully decorated with fairy lights twinkling in the trees, and the Weird Sisters were playing on a small stage. Almost everyone was dancing. Ron was at a huge table full of food contemplating whether to have chocolate cake or trifle, and watching Hermione whirl gracefully across the garden with George, laughing at something he was saying to her. The song ended and she wandered across to the table.

"I'm so thirsty! You Weasleys are so energetic!" Hermione exclaimed as she poured herself some fruit punch. Ron looked over at her and smiled. Her very elegant hairstyle from earlier was coming loose and she had a few stray curls framing her flushed face. Ron thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, worried at his stare. Ron broke his gaze.

"I'm ok. It's, er, it was nice wasn't it? The wedding I mean. They look happy."

Hermione looked over at Fleur and Bill, who were feeding each other wedding cake at their table.

"Yes, they do. It's been a lovely day. Good for everyone I think. Just what we all needed," she replied.

"I don't think it's doing Harry and Ginny any good," Ron sighed. "It's hard for them, being this close and not being together."

"It'll all work out in the end, I'm sure of it. How can it not? They're so perfect for each other. I don't believe the fates can be so cruel as to not bring them back together after all this is over," Hermione said earnestly. "At least, that's what I'm telling myself anyway."

"'Mione, you look really brilliant today," Ron blurted out, a blush creeping across his freckled nose. Hermione looked down shyly, blushing herself.

"Thanks Ron. You look really smart in those robes. They suit you."

Ron shuffled his feet, embarrassed, then asked, "Do you want to dance?"

"Yes. That would be nice," Hermione beamed and turned to go back to the dance floor. Ron touched her arm to stop her.

"Not over there. Here, just you and me," he smiled at her and her heart skipped, "there's something I need to tell you."

"Okay," Hermione nodded. Ron held his hand out. Hermione took it, and put her other hand on his shoulder. Ron put his free hand on her waist and they both blushed deeply. The Weird Sisters started playing a slow song and Ron and Hermione danced.

"Ron," "Hermione," they both spoke at the same time, then laughed nervously.

"You first," Ron said. Hermione shook her head, "I don't think I dare," she said. "You go."

"Okay," Ron flushed, his palms getting sweaty, "Hermione, there's something I've wanted to tell you for ages, and I haven't known how, but I think with everything that's happened and the war and everything, I think I just need to tell you," he paused for breath, "I, 'Mione, I - bloody hell!"

"Go on Ron. It's okay. You can tell me anything. You know that." Hermione held her breath. This couldn't be it, could it? Was he actually going to tell her? They stopped dancing and he looked at Hermione, her expectant gaze staring up at him.

"Hermione," he spoke softly now, "What I want to say is, I love you."

Everything stopped. As far as Hermione knew or cared, there was just this moment and they were the only two people in the world. She stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Hermione?" Ron looked away, embarrassed, taking her silence for rejection. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -"

"Shut up Ron!" Hermione stood on tiptoes and threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. There were tears in her eyes.

"Hermione, why are you crying?" Ron was confused now. He wiped a tear away from her cheek, which was so close to his. Hermione sensed his thoughts and kissed him on the cheek.

"Because I'm happy Ron. I've never been happier," she sniffed, "Ron, I've been in love with you forever. I didn't think this would ever happen! I thought I'd have to be your friend and watch you fall in love with someone else and always be the best friend and -"

Ron put a finger to her lips. "I will never fall in love with someone else, Hermione, and I promise you will never be a last resort."

Hermione looked into his eyes and knew he meant every word. Ron bent down a little, and their faces were almost touching. Hermione closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. Their lips met for the first time, and they kissed tenderly, forgetting everything around them. All that they had to face could wait. This was their time, their moment.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, looking like the cat who'd got the cream. Hermione tutted and slapped him arm playfully.

"Language, Ron!" she laughed, and they walked back hand in hand to join their friends and family.


	2. That's When

_**Well, no reason for this really other than the fact that after the last chapter I decided Ron and Hermione needed a really good snog! I hope you enjoy xx **_

_**You know the drill – they don't belong to me :-(**_

**That's When . . . . . **

Ron Weasley was coughing up slugs. Big black slugs glistening with slime. His face was a sort of pale green and he just didn't look well at all.

Hermione Granger thought he'd never looked more wonderful.

"What? Are you joking?" Ron almost spit his pumpkin juice all over the table. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust, then smiled.

"Not at all. Do I ever joke?"

Ron regarded his best friend - now girlfriend for all of an hour - and decided she was telling the truth. His brow wrinkled and he slowly asked her a question.

"S-o-o-o, you're saying you fell in love with me when I was puking up slugs. That was the moment that you thought, 'wow, that Ron Weasley, he's the one for me'?"

"Absolutely," Hermione replied. "Right then." She got up from the Burrow's kitchen table and busied herself fetching two bottles of butterbeer. She glanced out of the window to the garden, lit up brightly with coloured fairy lights and fireflies. Bill and Fleur's wedding reception was still in full swing and everyone was outside in the warm summer's eve, savouring this chance at happiness, this calm before the inevitable storm that was soon to come. She smiled as she watched Mr & Mrs Weasley dancing and looking as in love as they ever were.

"Why, Hermione, why then?"

Ron's voice brought her out of her wandering thoughts. Hermione turned back to the kitchen table, handed Ron a butterbeer and sat down. She smiled radiantly before answering. Ron's stomach threatened to leap into his mouth at that grin. She looked bloody brilliant when she smiled like that!

"Ron, you stood up for me that day. Against Malfoy, without any thought for your own safety. I know, we'd gone through an awful lot already by then, you and Harry had saved me from the troll, and then you sacrificed yourself in that awful wizard's chess game so that Harry could go on and find the Philosopher's Stone," Hermione paused for a breath, "You put yourself in danger all the time when you believe something is worth fighting for, we both have, for Harry. But Ron, the day you stood up to Malfoy, you stood up for _me_, you tried to hex him _for me_." Hermione took his hand. He entwined his fingers with hers. "And so when you were coughing up slugs from your reckless attempt to defend my honour I thought you were the most wonderful thing I had ever seen!"

Ron grinned his lop sided grin, the tips of his ears quickly reaching boiling point, the rest of his face following. He took a swig of his butterbeer to cool himself down. "Bloody hell Hermione, you were - you are my friend. I just did what was right, that's all."

Hermione stood up and walked around the table to stand behind Ron. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, "I know that. You always do. That's one of the reasons why I love you. You always do what's right, bravely and without question. You're loyal and so, so proud. I know you don't think of yourself that way, Ron, but you're a hero. Every bit as much a hero as Harry. He has to be - it's written. You just - are. You're a hero, Ron. You're my hero."

Flabbergasted at this revelation, Ron turned to his own hero, his bossy, brilliant, know it all, always right, and always has everyone's best interests at heart and their safety before her own, wonderful Hermione, who was blushing furiously at her confession.

"Herm - I, bloody hell!" he threw his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. He wasn't much shorter than her when he was sitting and she was standing, and he kissed her eagerly when she lowered her mouth to his. Hermione's hands snaked into Ron's long red hair as the kiss deepened. She sighed into Ron's mouth and the vibration caused him to moan softly. Breathless and blissfully happy to have finally admitted their feelings for each other, they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together for a short moment before Hermione stood straight and smoothed down her blue silk bridesmaid dress. Ron admired her curves as she did so. He decided he quite liked the way silk clings to a girl's curvy bits. He'd decided that as she'd walked down the aisle behind Fleur, as it happens. He smiled at her and took her hand.

"I love you Hermione Jane Granger," Ron kissed the back of her hand and stroked it gently with his thumb. She beamed happily at him. He didn't think he'd seen her this happy since they got their O.W.L. results.

"I love you too, Ronald Bilius Weasley," she giggled as Ron frowned at the use of his middle name. He got out of his seat with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Hermione stepped back.

"I told you never to use my middle name woman. Now you must pay!" Ron started towards her. Hermione ran towards the lounge laughing.

"Never, Ronald Bilius! You'll never take me down!"

Not one to back down from a challenge, Ron caught up with her in a few strides, having much longer legs. He tried to grab her but she slipped free and ran to the other end of the room. He caught up and very ungracefully tackled her in a Quidditch move. They landed on the sofa where he proceeded to tickle her.

"No, stop!" Hermione shrieked, laughing and squirming underneath him

"Not until you apologise!" Ron had pinned her down on the sofa. He was sitting astride her waist and ticking her ribs and there were tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. She threw her fists weakly against his chest, trying to make him stop, but it was just too much for her.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I used the middle name!" Hermione spluttered, "Now will you please stop?"

Ron stopped tickling her immediately and looked down at her. She was panting hard, her once neat chignon loose and curls spilling out all over, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. It was then he realised the compromising position they were in.

"Oh!" he exclaimed and started to get up. Hermione grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him back down, surprising them both with her forwardness. She blushed but held his ocean coloured gaze as she pulled his head down to meet hers. She kissed him gently. Ron responded, just as gently at first, then Hermione opened her mouth just a little, as if in invitation, and he ran his tongue softly across the inside of her lower lip. She gave a most un-Hermione like moan at that action, and gripped his robes a little tighter. Ron thought that was the sexiest thing he'd ever experienced in his life and was quite thrilled that it was his doing! He put his too-large hands on her hips, and stroked her gently, loving the feel of the silk and the feel of her arching against him as if she couldn't get close enough. No kiss he'd ever experienced with Lavender had felt this way. That had been sloppy and too wet and - what was he thinking about Lavender for anyway when his best friend, his Hermione was slipping her arms around his waist and resting her hands on his backside and - bloody hell - her tongue was touching his and he wondered why they hadn't done this sooner. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, and damn that much needed oxygen for making them stop! Hermione tried to sit up, looking very flustered and ruffled and extremely pleased with herself. Ron lifted himself off her, then sat beside her, staring incredulously at this girl he thought he knew so well.

"Wow," he sighed, "I mean - wow. Merlin, Hermione, how did you do this to me? You're my best friend - one of them - I thought I knew everything about you. And then you suddenly become a - a _girl!_"

"I'll take that as a compliment!" Hermione exclaimed, "I was always a girl, Ronald. It's just that you didn't notice until the Yule Ball." Ron hung his head, "Don't feel bad, Ron. I don't think anyone noticedI was until I walked into the Great Hall that night."

"I do feel bad, 'Mione. It should have been me that took you to that ball," Ron sighed, then muttered, "and not that Hungarian Harpy, Krum."

"Oh, Ron, that doesn't really matter anymore, surely? I promise you, nothing happened with Viktor except a quick kiss. Nothing that could be called a snog, and absolutely nothing else." Hermione looked exasperated. "And I hardly need remind you that you certainly got your own back on that score, _Won-won._"

Ron shuffled his feet awkwardly, "Yeah. Message understood. Sorry Hermione."

Hermione shrugged, "It's not important now. What we have is. The road we took to get here is behind us, and I don't need to look back at the bad stuff. But there is one thing I want to know."

"What's that?" Ron looked at her warily.

"Well, I told you my innermost secret, Ron. That I fell in love with you whilst you were barfing up slugs," she smiled wickedly, "I feel it's only fair that you tell me when you finally, once and for all realised that I was in fact a girl. And not _just _a girl, a girl you wanted to snog!"

"Oh, I don't know. About two hours ago," Ron said flippantly. Hermione punched him playfully on the arm. "Ow! Okay, well then." Ron cleared his throat and in his best Hermione voice said, "You've got dirt on your nose by the way, did you know? Just - there."

Hermione looked outraged. "You did not Ronald Weasley! I believe 'Nightmare' was the word you used for me!"

"And mental," Ron agreed, "Completely barking in fact."

"Thanks." Hermione frowned and chewed her lower lip. Ron watched fascinated, wishing it was him doing the chewing. He reached over and gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"When did I decide I wanted to snog you Hermione? I think I was a bit slow with that particular realisation," Ron admitted, "That was some time after the Yule Ball. But I think I fell in love with you the second you punched Malfoy in the face!"

Hermione blushed. "Yes, I can believe that. Oh, hitting him was wrong but it felt so good!"

Ron shook his head solemnly. "I think Harry and I have been a bad influence on you, Granger."

"I think you're quite possibly right, _Weasley._" Hermione sneered, then turned her head towards the cheers coming from the garden. "Looks like there's yet another toast going on out there. We'd better go before we're missed and everyone gets the wrong impression."

Yeah, I suppose," Ron sighed reluctantly, "but would that really be so bad?"

"Ron!" Hermione blushed furiously, "Come on you - outside!"

Ron took Hermione's small hand in his and they headed back outside to the rest of the world.


End file.
